Masquerade
by just-call-me-Elphie
Summary: Erik is searching for Christine in the masquerade scene, but he finds somebody else. Who is this new stranger in the beautiful mask? POTO--OCD with a touch of POTC. Mainly Phantom though. Not too many pirates. -
1. Feathered Mask A New Face

1Chapter One: Feathered Mask/A New Face

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The fact that this is, in fact, a fanfiction, makes the possibility very strong that a few characters have been derived from other stories.

"Masquerade, paper faces on parade! Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you!"

He fully regretted the bright red costume he had worn, for the attention it drew. All the more so for the fiery words, "do not touch me! I am Red Death stalking abroad," emblazoned on his cape. More and more people thought of him as some attraction, darting forward to lay hands on him and whip off his mask. He put them each in their right place, but it was tiring. He turned a corner, still searching for that elusive Christine. A black domino caught his attention and he knew he had found her from the locks of dark brown curls streaming down her back. He spun his cape to one side, giving chase. Here! There! Gone! He nearly dashed his mask to the floor in frustration, if only to scare the living hell out of the party-goers.

Then he spotted the mask.

It was half-faced and all black and white, like the rest of the masks at the event. An explosion of feathers and ribbons burst from a jewel in the top, dancing around the face and woven through gentle curls of blonde hair. The stone was probably a rhinestone but it was to good effect. He let his eyes drift over the beautiful and intricate designs sparkling out of the mask, the lovely effect they had on the bright blue eyes.

He stared into the eyes though they weren't watching him. They were off somewhere else. They were huge, the brightest blue he could imagine, set with long, lovely, black eyelashes. The curve of the eyelid to the almond-shape of the actual eye was dramatic and was the most striking effect he had ever seen in a masked face.

Below the mask and the eyes was a well-shaped face with cheekbones round enough to hold the mask perfectly in place, complimented by a set of red, round and pouty lips. The edges of the lips curved upward in a wry sort of smile, causing the skin below the mask to buckle slightly and dramatize her sculpted face to the extreme. Then she turned her head in his direction.

He looked away quickly, but he could feel her eyes still resting on him, probably alight with wonder and curiosity. Why couldn't his presence excite Christine like that?

A gentle touch on his shoulder and he turned to meet the questioning eyes of the girl in the feathered mask. His heart skipped a beat when he looked into those huge blue eyes and his gaze was returned. A young man stood by her side, probably a peasant. She smiled and curtseyed to him, her pretty lips curling upward in a merry grin.

He looked deep into her eyes, confused as to why she would approach him. "Beware," he hissed, not really meaning it.

A delicate tinkle of a laugh rippled from her throat and she laid a tantalizing hand on his shoulder. "Indeed, sir. Beware of what, might I ask?"

He grinned fiendishly at her, sweeping his cape slightly as he took a step forward, snatching hold of the hand that was touching him. "Do not touch me," he hissed.

She smiled at him. "For you are Red Death stalking abroad! Yes, I know sir. Would you favor me a dance?"

He started, taking a step back and releasing her. He looked at her from an angle, turning away slightly. "You are not from here."

"I'm here with my brother; Will. We're from the Caribbean, actually. He's just been married and is here on his honeymoon with his darling bride; Rose." She tilted her head back, showing a touch of her face that was hidden beneath the mask.

He nodded, taking a step back and striking his Red Death pose. "And I suppose you're looking for a bit of male entertainment yourself? Being a younger sister with your older brother married."

"Oh, no! Actually, I'm the wild one in the family. Father always favored me because I like to stay with him on the ship." She tilted her head back down, tucking her chin into her collar and letting her eyes wander around.

_She has the attention span of an ADD squirrel in a nut factory_, he thought, watching her. She was an odd girl, but he was strangely attracted to her. He held out a hand to her, a weird smile playing across his face. "You desire a dance, madam?"

She grinned winningly and took his head with an eager nod. "Yes! I don't know how to dance very well, though. Daddy never taught me too thoroughly. It was always aunt Lizzie and uncle William who had to teach me how to dance when I was with them. In fact, one time--"

He reached forward and laid a finger over her lips, the smile smoothing and broadening a bit. "Enough! Come, simply follow my lead and try not to step on my toes."

She giggled, laying a thin but weathered hand over her lips to muffle them a bit. "Alright!"

He led her to the dance floor, putting one hand on her waist and taking the other. She frowned and took his hand, pausing and wondering a bit with the other. He leaned forward and whispered, "my shoulder!" into her ear. She grinned and did so with an air of success, just in time for the music to pick up.

He found himself dancing with her in sweeping motions, flowing with the music that was playing as well as if he had written it. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the moment. For that moment, he was happy. When he opened his eyes he met the bright, curious ones of the younger girl.

She smiled at him, tightening her grip on his shoulder a bit as she struggled to keep up with the pace of the music. "My name is Sarah! Sarah Renee Sparrow."

He tilted his head back and contemplated her for a moment. "My name is Erik," he finally said.

She nodded. "I knew a pirate named Eric!"

"No," he shook his head, "not Eric. Erik!"

She frowned. "But-- where is the difference between the two?"

"I am Erik with a K, not a C."

"How are you even able to tell?"

He smiled at her in high humor. "There are a lot of things about me that confuse most people. Let us say that the accent you pronounced when you named Eric was different than that when you would Erik."

She shook her head in mock despair. "No! I'll never get it! I'm a failure!"

He smiled gently. "No, you're not."

The music slowed to a dramatic pace, the two of them engaging in a closer dance. Erik twirled Sarah enthusiastically then drew her to him, running a hand up her back to slide across her neck. Her masked face was only a few centimeters from his and he could feel her breath on his neck. He spun her out, catching her and sweeping her around and close to him again, ducking so that their bodies were pressed together.

She looked up, him holding her securely from collapsing in a heap of fancy clothes and mask feathers. She heaved a tiny sigh of delight. He was so strong! He grinned and pulled her back up, their faces so close. His hands were on her waist and her arms were around his shoulders.

He sighed and spun her again, stopping her for another invigorating lull in dancing to be closer to her than he had ever gotten to Christine . . . while she was awake. He ran a hand down to her leg and pulled it up, looking into her eyes as gently as possible. The death mask probably ruined everything.

A flash of black domino distracted him, making him look away and almost drop his partner. Christine! He looked around wildly, knowing she had to be somewhere. Then something grabbed his shoulder and squeezed with surprising strength. He glanced at his partner, then engaged in the dance with her again.

She frowned at him, laying a hand on his shoulder as the dance slowed again. "Who are you looking for?"

He shook his head, avoiding her eyes. "No one."

"Not true!" She laughed, teasing him. "Eri' is looking for someone, but who?!"

He frowned at her. "Did you just call me airy?"

"No, it's just easier to say. Do you mind, Eri'?"

He shrugged. "I suppose not. I'm not used to people even calling me by my name, much less by a nick-name. It's almost distracting."

A drawling voice cut through their conversation. "Oi! Sarah, come on now! Back to the ship."

Sarah let go of Erik and took a step back, curtseying unsteadily to him. "I'm sorry, that's my father. I must be going. We're actually to set sail in a few days, so he doesn't want me out that late. Goodnight, monsieur Eri'." She smiled charmingly, then turned on her heel and in a whirl of skirts as gone.


	2. A Dark Ship and a Beautiful Lass

1Chapter Two: A Ship With Black Sails

It had been ages since he had ventured outside. The cold air bit at his face and threatened to tear the mask from his face. He pressed a hat onto his head, the brim holding down the mask effectively. With a smile of confidence in himself he swept on through the crowd, ignoring the stares he was earning.

There was the docks almost three miles from the opera house. If he found was he was looking for, though, it would be worth the venture. A looming black ship was the first to catch his attention, so he stopped and stood for a moment to admire it. Certainly it was a feat of architecture. If he had ever wanted to design ships he was sure they would look like this one.

"Ahoy, me little Sara!"

Erik recognized the drawling, accented voice. He took a few long steps forward and saw an older man in rough clothing standing jauntily on the big black ship. He squinted and noticed the dinghy being dragged up the side of the ship, two young woman and a young man within.

The one with the striking blonde hair and the beautiful white dress stood, despite the folly of standing up in a dinghy, and waved enthusiastically. "Ahoy, daddy!"

Erik started and stared at the strange man on the deck, in awe that this delicate young woman was the spawn of such a grotesque creature. He took long strides toward the ship, his brilliant mind racing to find a way on. He spotted another dinghy nearby and leapt in without another though. He was good at making things up as he went.

A noise on deck went off as he climbed nimbly up the side of the ship, a rope in either hand. It was a short, feminine scream. He gritted his teeth and doubled his efforts, hauling himself onto the deck with a graceful bound.

An old man with a flask of rum turned to stare at him. "Hello there! What be you doing here?"

Erik stood and offered his hand. "Monsieur Erik, at your service, sir."

"Gibbs." The man grasped Eriks glove with his filthy hand for a moment, then turned. "Jack! Someone new here! Come get your bearings on him."

The same ruffian that miss Sarah had called father strode up to Erik with an odd swagger, thrusting out his grimy hand when he drew close enough. "Captain Sparrow, at your service sir."

"Erik," replied the dignified figure in the mask, grasping the dirty hand gingerly.

"Eri'?"

He turned at the sound of Sarahs voice to see a rough young girl in a mess of tattered pirating gowns rush up to him. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek joyfully. "Daddy, look! He followed me home! This is the fellow I was telling you about!"

"Is he now?" Jack looked at the man up and down, a parental grimace describing his features. "Well, can he haul a line?"

"I'm sure he can, daddy! He's really strong. C'mon!" She tugged on his arm, utterly excited.

He couldn't help but stare at her. Without the mask she was more beautiful than ever, but that get-up was hideous on her! "What-- are you wearing?"

She picked at one of her torn skirts, a shred of petticoat slipping out and blowing in the wind. With a shrug she tucked the fragment back into place and grinned at him. "Just some lady clothes my daddy bought for me. I outgrew my other ones. They might be kinda torn up, but it's not like they're for show. I can move in them. Now, come! I'll show you how to furl a sail!"


	3. The Storm

Chapter Three: The Storm

The man in the mask dropped lightly from the rigging he had been climbing, feeling more at home than he had ever in his life. A smile even broke out on his face when he saw the beautiful miss Sarah wave at him from behind the big wheel she was struggling with.

They had set out almost a week ago and Erik had decided to come with them. He loved the way there was always a cool breeze blowing, the job there was always to be done, how he was always busy with his hands. It was like a paradise of a complete other sort for him.

"Ahoy, help me with this!"

He looked up, his brilliant blue-green-grey eyes looking to see who had called. It was the captain, waving at the darkly-clad man in the mask.

"Erik, come here!"

He nodded and took a running start at the rail, grabbing onto it and swinging himself up onto the deck where the captain stood. "You need me for something?"

"Aye." He put an arm around the strange man's shoulder and winked at him in good humor. "Help me lass steer, will ye? There's a storm blowing in and I don't want the wheel getting away from her. She tells me yer real strong, so I'm counting on ye!"

Erik nodded and turned with a swirl of his cape, heading with a few more bounds for the deck where Sarah was.

She looked up at him when he swept up the stairs and landed next to her, like some sort of black ghost coming to rest. "Monsieur Eri'? Can I help you?"

He smiled at her. She was his favorite person aboard. "Yes, you can help me. Your father said there might be a storm approaching, and it would be my honor to try my hand at steering the ship."

She giggled and stepped aside to make room for him. He always knew exactly what to say to get what he wanted. "Alright, then, sir. You stand here and if the rudder goes wild you can grab hold and help me keep her on course." A glance at the distant sky confirmed what her father had said. "Those clouds will be upon us in only a matter of time."

It was only a matter of time. Soon there were winds howling all around the ship, huge waves crashing into the boat and even pellets of sharp ice.

Sarah cried out as a huge wave almost overtook her, soaking her with freezing, sharp salt water. She groaned, holding onto the wheel as tightly as she could. "Daddy!" She tried crying out, but her voice was swept away by the wind. She clung to the wheel, holding so tight her knuckles split and bled openly.

A huge looming presence overtook her suddenly and she found two strong arms around her, gripping at the wheel and holding it steady. She looked up and saw the white mask and the serious eyes. He looked down, grunting with effort, and grinned at her, moving a bit so she could get away.

She ducked out from under the swirling cape and grabbed onto the solid form, holding on hard to him around the waist. He took a small step forward, holding the wheel firmly and standing up straight. He hardly strained at all, until another wave came crashing over the ship.

The young girl cried out and let go of Erik for a moment. It was a mistake. The wave overtook her and swept her off of her very feet. She tried to cry out, but the salt water flooded her mouth and choked her, leaving her without air and barely conscious. Her arms thrashed in the waves a few moments longer. She didn't even know she wasn't on the ship anymore. But the dark foaming water flooded over her head, cutting her off from her source of life, air!

Something hard knocked into her head so she saw stars. She clung to it like a half-drown rat, wondering where she was. It only took another hard wave crashing over her head and she was nothing but a limp bundle draped over a piece of wood.

"Sarah!" Captain Sparrow dashed onto the deck where the wheel was spinning freely, drenched and unhappy. The dashing older man seized the wheel, rapping his hand against the rungs hard. He looked around, squinting to rid himself of the salty water that was everywhere, but his daughter was nowhere to be found. "Sarah!"

Something on the deck caught his eye, caught behind the rail of the ship. He fought his way to it and picked it up, looking over the dull shine it possessed. It was a white porcelain mask in the shape of half of a face. The old captain turned his smarting eyes to the sea. "Sarah . . ."


	4. An Island

Chapter Four:

A bundle on the shore of a strange island twitched as a wave crashed over its body, rolling over and spouting a small stream of salt water. The thing was clad in a rough bodice and some tattered slacks, barely what Sarah had been wearing when she had been swept over the side of the boat.

She groaned and tried to sit up, complaining wordlessly as another wave swelled up against her and knocked her back onto the beach. She lay there, defeated, and allowed the waves to completely saturate her. Her blue eyes closed as another, more adventurous gush splashed over her face.

Then there were two incredibly strong arms around her, pulling her away from the water. She moaned and squirmed, wondering what it was, but not conscious enough to open her eyes and look for herself.

She was sitting up now and something was pounding on her back, a gentle voice whispering comforting words into her ear. She coughed, spitting a small stream of salt water onto the beach. "Ah-rg." Her body gave out and she fell back again, the strong arms catching her and letting her rest on something soft and warm.

"Sarah?"

The word broke through her weary haze, her eyes opening fully at last. "Mm . . .?" She sought out the source of the voice, her eyes meeting a concerned face above her. But . . .

"Sarah, it's Erik. Wake up."

She blinked, reaching up to touch the face. "But . . . where's your mask?"

He looked away. "I lost it, when I jumped into the water to try and save you it was knocked off."

She sat up, shaking her head to try and clear it. "I've never seen you without your mask. Eri', look at me." She put a hand on his shoulder, trying to see what he looked like without the mask.

He turned, his face sad and serious.

"Oh." She blinked once, putting a hand over the exposed flesh. "Well, that's unexpected, but it's nothing to hide. Why do you hide your face?"

The blue eyes blinked at her. "You-- don't think it's . . .?" he trailed off and looked away again.

"Think it's what? I always thought you were beautiful, mask or not. What does it matter, I've seen far worse. You don't sail the sea your entire life without coming across some grotesque characters." She smiled at him, the haze having finally lifted from her mind. "Besides, it's the person that matters, not the face. Remember that."

He smiled gratefully at her, standing and helping her to her feet. "Come, we have to find water. Put this on, it'll cover you better."

She took the cape he offered, wrapping it around her shoulders firmly. "Thank you."

He nodded and took her arm, leading her into the woods.


End file.
